Assassin's Creed Imagines

Thomas Hickey imagine

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Well I didn't die guys haha. I'm back, I guess I took a really long break. Let me know what you guys would like next! Sorry if this one sucks, I'm still getting into the grove of things. For the user Mister_Frye , who requested this a while back. Thank you for the support! :)
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'Another wasted night here on Boston.' You thought to yourself

The air was thin, and snow began to spot the rooftops with white. You stood observing from your room's window, amazed at how a downpour of snow didn't phase any of Boston's residents- they continued on with their lives, not minding that the falling snow would guarantee another freezing and uncomfortable night.

It wasn't that you were bored of Boston; it just seemed as though every night consisted of the same routine, and you yearned for something more exciting than just reading and practicing your letters.

Suddenly you had an idea, and you paced around your room searching for what you would need for the night. Grabbing your coat and gloves, you hurried down stairs, and paused at the sight of red and white through the front doors small window.

Redcoats

They were probably drunk well out their minds, but that didn't mean that they would let you off without a warning of some sort.

Once you saw the red uniforms disappear into the flurries of white, you began your trek to one of the nearby taverns.

It was just as cold as you had presumed, and you buttoned up your coat and put on your gloves. The bottom of your dress and coat became soaked from the snow rather quicjly, but that didn't stop you from continuing to your destination.

Relieved that you finally made it without freezing to death, you took a minute to take in the harsh yet joyful atmosphere of the tavern. Clouds of smoke lingered around in the air, as well as the laugh and clatter of its patrons. It was almost a complete opposite feeling than that of the wind blown streets; it was more of a breath of fresh air. You took your seat at the bar, you dress contrasting the normal outfits of the taverns customers. You turned to watch the small band singing lousily, and the already drunken patrons trying to sing and dance along to the songs.

When the performance-if it even merited such a name- finished, you couldn't help but laugh and clink tankards with those around you.

It was only until after the laughing and frolicking died down that you realized a man staring at you from across the tavern.

Well not just any man; it was Thomas hickey, notorious for scheming ways and his always drunk personality. of course you didn't know the man and he didn't know you, but it seemed as though he made up his mind to at least become acquainted with you.

He pushed through the people, and you remained seated, continuing your small talk while you watched Thomas from the corner of your eye.

He waved off the man who had taken a stool next to you, and the poor guy stumbled out of his seat, tankard and all. Thomas proudly claimed his seat next to you, resting one arm on the bar and the other on his hip.

As the bartender handed him a drink, he non chelauntly turned to you.

"What's a pretty lady like you doin' 'round here?"

"I think I'd have to ask you the same question." you replied, chuckling at him.

He took out a large sum of money, and ordered as many tankards of ale the money could buy. You examined the money from afar, you could tell it wasn't normal money. As the tender whisked it up and placed it on his apron, you turned to find Hickey examining your neck. You knew where this was going, and you decided to play along.

As Hickey drank away his common sense, he made lame and irrelevant jokes and you somehow managed to laugh at each and every one of them, placing a hand on his knee to somewhat lower his defenses. He stared at you with hungry eyes, watching as you took off your gloves and coat, ever so sensually.

You looked around, hoping it would help make the time go by faster. You needed to get him on his own, to find out about that suspicious looking money.

Finally, after what seemed like hours he stands up and takes you by the hand. You shuffle quickly and take your gloves and coats, already preparing for what lies ahead. He storms out of the tavern with you in tow, taking you to a darkened alley-way and pushing you up against a wall. He begins to kiss your neck, almost too aggressively, but you can't leave just yet. You let him have his fun.

He kisses your lips, leaving behind a bitter taste, and while you roll your eyes as he moves on to your neck again, you notice a chance to escape.

"Thomas," you whisper.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice some blue coats, patrolling around- allies none the less, but you don't want to be seen with Thomas Hickey sucking at your neck.

"Blue coats." You conclude.

Thomas's actions come to a halt, and he mutters.

"Don't worry love, they won't have their Georgie for long," he continues on, but you push him away.

So he plans to attack Washington. You should've figured with that fake money he was up to something against the patriots.

He grabs you by your wrists, clearly not wanting to stop. You struggle for some time, thrashing and attempting to kick him, until you finally find and angle and knee him right where it hurts, taking whatever remaining counterfeit money he had from his pocket.

You run as fast as your dress allows you too, vowing that you will speak to your contacts as soon as possible about the situation with Hickey and Washington.